[Rachel is wearing a salmon colored coat and is dragging a pink suitcase on wheels -- and it looks like she's been crying. She quickly wipes her eyes and draws in a trembling breath before she speaks with a sense of authority that is unbecoming of a seventeen year old girl. Especially one that looks like she's very much out of her element.]

I demand some further explanation from someone who does not appear like they have taken part in a Stephen King movie. I've walked around the city a little, trying to find my friends, and --

[And here, Rachel deflates slightly.]

... I was on a train and -- Finn, I was holding his hand, and I don't --

[She lets out a breath, her cheeks puffing out slightly. Get your head on straight, Berry. You can do this. You are in control of this situation. You can make yourself presentable and get answers.

And suddenly, Rachel straightens her shoulders, her jawline sets, and she takes a deep breath to make herself sound calmer. She is not going to panic. This is obviously some grief induced hallucination spurred on by being separated from the people she loves. She can make her way through this psychosis like any proper starlet does.

By maintaining a positive public image.]

Assuming that I have not officially lost my mind... hello, fellow trapped Asgardians. My name is Rachel Berry. I am in the house of Freyr and I am supposed to be on a train to New York City in order to begin my --

[Tears are beginning to start again, but Rachel grits her teeth and grips the handle of her suitcase tightly as she stares into the hologram created by her bracelet. Though she looks a mess and her mascara is running down her cheeks, she seems to have a certain conviction about her. This girl wants answers. And she wants them yesterday.]

Why I was en route to the city doesn't particularly matter. What matters is that I must find my way out of here promptly.

Please let me know how to get out of here as soon as possible -- or where to contact proper authorities, and while this might sound slightly racist, ones that have faces, because my last attempts at negotiating this hostage situation fell flat when the faceless people stared at me blankly with -- whatever they stare at as they haven't got eyes --

[And Rachel draws in yet another trembling breath, to stop herself from panicking, before she utters out a weak:]

I just want to go home and my cell phone won't call my dads. The joke isn't funny anymore, okay, I get it, let's all make fun of Rachel Berry for one last hurrah while she is going through the biggest transitional period of her life, hilarious, you can all stop filming now -- !

[And she abruptly sinks down to sit on her suitcase, the video feed jilting oddly, before she mumbles another -- ]

Really funny.

[Hermione doesn't like to spend much time outside, in the streets, surrounded by Merlin knows who. But she has made a recent trip - in the name of research. Therefore, she is now sitting in the common area - one of them anyway - of Odin's House. Books are spread in a semi-circle around her and she looks, well, stressed is a good way to put it.]

There is no logical reasoning. [Her opinion of the gods is falling. Like a stone dropped from heaven. She had retained some hope just because they are gods, but no more.] The legends on each of them are vague at best and downright horrific at worst. If I were looking at this from an unbiased point of view, I would say that's unsurprising. But knowing that they're here and able to toy with us on a whim changes my perspective greatly.

[She carefully marks her place in one of the books.]

I am really not fond of games. They usually turn ugly and dangerous, especially when you mix competitive deities and, more or less, helpless mortals.

[Rubbing her temples, she closes her eyes.]

Does anyone have something for a headache?

[ turning to the network isn't his first response to finding himself here, and as such, when the video is turned on, loki looks remarkably comfortable, despite the fact that his clothing — black and green, with a touch of gold — is looking somewhat worse for wear. his expression holds a touch of amusement (in truth, in place of entertainment, it's born of bitterness and irritation and disdain), and he takes a moment to simply eye the feed before speaking. ]

I admit, I had expected more pomp and circumstance. [ he doesn't bother specifying just what he'd expected more pomp and circumstance regarding, and the corners of his lips twitch into a slight smile — there's a touch too much guile and it's a tad too sharp-edged to truly be friendly, but there's a hint of private amusement nonetheless. he briefly runs his thumb along his lower lip before continuing. ] Asgard, the realm eternal needing the help of mortals to stay— [ a beat, and a breath that's almost a laugh. ] —well, eternal. [ 'mortals' is uttered with a mixture of disbelief and distaste; asgard may no longer be home, but if it was going to fall, he, at least, would rather not watch its fate be in the hands of something so miserably pathetic. and he, the whatever that was claiming to be him, was merely acting party to the all-father's whims and desires and rule.

a pitiful imitation.

something resembling pity (feigned) flits across loki's features for a moment, and he hesitates (deliberate) before continuing. ]

I truly hope something terrible has not befallen the All-Father; he ought to have power beyond imagining, and yet here he is, using it only to bring forth waifs and strays of the realms and the universe, to have them save his world whilst he can do naught but watch. Please, do tell me: how has saving Asgard gone for you so far? Have the gods been gracious and kind to their subjects, or are you all merely toys for their amusement? The house of Odin, such as it is, is not known for truth.

[ loki's attention shifts away from the feed for a moment, and he looks upwards, appearing to study the ceiling for a moment. ]

Or for care and attention. [ what all-father would invite loki to play the role of saviour, after all? the entire situation is laughable. ] Good Heimdall must be losing his touch.

[A device that is obviously crafted by magic would of course be difficult to manage. Uther would refuse to use it if only it wasn’t the only form of decent communication he has decided he probably has by now. But he is quite furious, and his expression hardly hides it.]

The contents of the letter and the [unacceptable] words of the maid would best be a trick and it would be in the perpetrator’s best interest to step forward. Magic is no joking matter and if I find that it has been used I will personally hunt down its user.

[He pauses, seems to reconsider.]

I know it’s been used. This reeks of magic and I, King of Camelot, have sworn to not stand for it. I know there is a sorcerer out there and if anyone holds any information about it and I discover that it has been kept from me, you will be charged with treason and executed along with the sorcerer.

This spell will come undone and I will not rest until it has.

[The audio cut on and there is a racket on the other end. Something breaks and there is a cry like someone is being attacked.]

ANNIE!

[There is some more thrashing around and the sound of quick breath. Then silence. There is a long exhale and sigh, and then a rueful chuckle. When the camera comes on, sea green eyes are in the lens for a moment, before Finnick grins at the camera, although there is a visible edge to it.]

I guess I should thank whoever gave me such a pretty bracelet.

[He motions to his body, which is hardly concealed by the tatters of clothing he was now wearing. What little cloth is stained by blood, and he touches his abs moving his hand up and down slowly splaying it below his bellybutton as he talks to himself.]

This is what they call beauty level zero, huh?

[His voice comes out in almost a seductive purr as he smiles and tips his chin up.]

So, I need some information.

Can anyone tell me the status of a girl named Katniss Everdeen, or a boy named Peeta Mellark?

[As he stands and moves away from the bed there is a curious sight. The ripping of the bed sheets had to of been on purpose, because on the bed there is a bit of sheet knotted up every so many inches. Finnick stretches his back and smiles, winking at whoever’s watching on the network.]

If you can give me what I need, I’ll make sure to repay the favor.

Ya know, I dunno what you guys were complainin' about, being a kid is fun!  I kinda like it.

Sure makes getting in and out of places really easy.  And I'm small enough now that big guys can't get me.  [He's beaming clearly, but he's Rin so he's a dork and doesn't see anything wrong with now being a seven year old.]

OH OH OH, and one more thing [He's practically jujmping up and down with excitement]

I have a great idea! I dunno why I never thought of it before but how does everybody feel about a cookout where everyone cooks something?  Like, I dunno what its called but everybody can bring something and it'd be fun.  There could be prizes too!

At first I was thinkin' maybe just the people in Freya could do it, but it might be fun for everyone to do it? Yeah?